


Wine

by disillusionist9



Series: Choose Dare [62]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, M/M, POV Dean Thomas, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9
Summary: Drabble #65 of 100 | Dean holds tightly to what really matters.





	Wine

"You're drunk."

"Are not. 'M Irish, can hold my liquor."

Dean chuckled, disturbing Seamus's head resting against his shoulder, nose buried in his neck. The man hadn't left his side since Dean climbed through the tunnel from the Hog's Head several hours ago. It felt like lifetimes ago that he'd raised his wand against Death Eaters and Snatchers attacking Hogwarts.

Those lifetimes weren't his own flashing before his eyes. He'd lived his life, seen it once, knew what had happened and didn't regret a moment of it. What he watched, while throwing spells and hexes to defend the place he'd called home for so many years, were images of what he could have...what they _all_ could have if this damned war would just end.

Seamus nuzzled his Adam's apple again, forcing Dean out of his own head and to focus back on the gangly Irishman wrapped around him in one of the hammocks hanging in Gryffindor tower.

"Wasn't liquor, Sea. Or beer, for that matter, and I know how much you can handle of those."

This time Seamus chuckled, and the feeling of his soft breath, tinged with warm mulled wine, washing over Dean's neck and shoulders sent a shot of electricity through his arms and chest. With goosebumps rising rapidly all over his body, he shivered and rearranged the blankets over top of their bodies with his much longer arms. Seamus's were too preoccupied wrapped around his torso, anyway, clinging to him like a persistent freckled growth.

"Wine is for the French," Dean said.

His lips sticking slightly to the skin on Dean's chin, Seamus looked up with eyes half-lidded and slightly crossed. "You French, then, love?"

Indulgently, Dean smiled and kissed Seamus' forehead, gathering him up tighter so he could feel the man's heartbeat on his shoulder again. "Nah. Didn't drink a sip."

"So you're French _and_ a liar. I see."

Dean smiled into Seamus's hair, uncaring neither of them were any semblance of clean, and their own dried blood still stuck to their skin where a hex got too close. Pulling him closer, he vowed to himself to make some of the possibilities he watched flash before his eyes come true, always with the man in his arms by his side.


End file.
